


Desperado

by MayhemWonder, TrashyArtz



Category: Bakuten Shoot Beyblade, Beyblade
Genre: Collab, F/M, M/M, Mafia AU, Originally Posted on Tumblr, much silly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27237634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayhemWonder/pseuds/MayhemWonder, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashyArtz/pseuds/TrashyArtz
Summary: The mafia AU no one asked for. A collaboration with TrashyArtz
Relationships: Boris Kuznetsov | Bryan Kuznetsov/Tachibana Hiromi | Hilary Tachibana, Hiwatari Kai/Yuri Ivanov | Tala Valkov
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	1. Prologue

Bryan entered Stanley Dickenson’s office with a nervous knot in his stomach. It was not everyday he was urgently summoned to the Director of the FBI’s office. Dickenson was generally happy with his work, so perhaps this convocation meant good news. Perhaps this was a promotion.

Bryan sat in the leather seat in front of Dickenson’s desk, waiting for his superior to break the silence.

Director Dickenson’s face gave nothing and when he spoke, his voice was serious.

“Bryan, I trust you are aware that we arrested Vladimir Volkov two days ago.”

Bryan nodded. “Yes, boss. I have heard. Congratulations.”

Of course, Bryan knew. He had been working on the Russian mafia case for three years now. The new had overwhelmed him with joy. So far, the investigation had been painfully slow. Those guys were smart, and ruthless. Maybe the arrest of Volkov, a prominent figure in the organization, would be what they needed to make a proper crackdown. Maybe they could even get to Soichirou Hiwatari, the real Godfather who ruled from his secret headquarters in Japan.

Dickenson didn’t seem to share Bryan’s joy. “What I am about to tell you must not leave this room.”

“Sir, it won’t.”

“Good.”

Dickenson stared at Bryan, as if deciding how much he could reveal. When he spoke, his voice was clear, but low. “Volkov and the FBI are collaborating. We agreed to… a lenient prison sentence if he was proving himself useful. Volkov will help us having one of our agents infiltrate the headquarters in Japan. One of our guys… posing as Volkov’s trusted aide, sent overseas. This is where you come in, Bryan.”

Bryan’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t anticipated this conversation.

Director Dickenson remained silent, letting the weight of the request sink in. After a few seconds that seemed like forever, Bryan felt the need to confirm what his boss expected.

“Boss. You want me to go undercover in the Russian mafia?”


	2. Run This Town

Bryan was pacing back and forth a busy street of Akihabara. The evening was starting to fall. Crowds of tourists entered and exited the numerous stores selling manga memorabilia and other stupidities Bryan had no interest for.

Right next to him, a young woman in a maid costume was trying to lure customers into a kitten-themed café. She ignored Bryan altogether. She knew a tall gaijin dressed head to toes in second-hand clothes was not a prey worth her time.

“Are you sure he’s coming?” Bryan mumbled to no one in particular, knowing the microphone hidden in his collar would pick up his voice.

“Relax Bryan,” said the voice of Rei in his headphones, “are you expecting a mafia driver to be a chauffeur?”

Bryan sighed. He didn’t know what to expect. It was his first undercover mission and the first time he would rub shoulders with such a high-profile organization. Bryan’s teenage years had been rough, but he was now on the right side of the law and the only criminals he saw on a regular basis were the ones he put in handcuffs.

He had been working on this case for three years. The Russian mafia was tough to crack. They were everywhere in Asia and America and they seemed to grow bigger every day. Up to a few days ago, the FBI was progressing at a snail’s pace, scrapping for clues. They had arrested a few low-profile individuals, but no one able to offer sustainable information.

Up until now.

Volkov was a big shot. Bryan couldn’t believe they had managed to arrest him. Volkov had agreed to help the FBI infiltrate the Japanese branch of the Russian mafia, where the Godfather himself had his headquarters.

Soichirou Hiwatari.

During his discussion with Dickenson, Bryan had naturally agreed to go undercover. This mission could be the turning point in an investigation that had otherwise remained stagnant. He couldn’t help but feel excited by this idea.

“You remember the password?” asked Rei in his ear.

“Yup.”

Bryan made a conscious effort to not turn towards the café where his colleague Rei was sitting, hiding in plain clothes, covering him from afar.

Volkov had helped the FBI craft a cover story. Bryan would pose as a trusted “bodyguard” of Volkov, recently out of prison after three years of incarceration. Volkov was sending him to Japan, where he would be less recognizable to the police. Just another gaijin amongst all the gaijins, not a known felon.

 _All hail globalization, I am a Russian-American living in the States about to infiltrate the Russian mafia in Japan_ , thought Bryan.

Suddenly, a taxi pulled in front of him.

Bryan’s heartbeat increased. This was it.

He mentally repeated the password and adopted a bored, nonchalant attitude. As if he had done this multiple times before.

The window rolled down, revealing a short Japanese man with bright red hair and a forehead scar behind the wheel. The man greeted him with a peace sign.

“Yo. You’re Boris Kuznetsov?”

Bryan frowned, taken aback. This wasn’t the password. This however, was indeed his cover name.

“Hm, I am waiting for a taxi,” clumsily offered Bryan.

The short redhead chuckled and retorted with impatience, “Dude, I know it’s you I’m supposed to pick up. Look… I forgot the password. Just get in, okay?”

Bryan blinked. Was this a joke? A trap? Was he supposed to insist on the password? Volkov had not prepared him for this.

Bryan leaned in and asked, “What if I am not the person you think I am?”

The redhead rolled his eyes.

“You’re the only guy around here who doesn’t look like he’s into anime porn,” he explained, “you don’t exactly blend in. This is Tokyo. Anyway, hop in.”

Bryan removed his headphones and shoved them in his pocket. He wouldn’t be able to hear Rei, but Rei would hear everything. He hoped his younger colleague had taken notes on the incident.

Bryan then got into the car, slipping into the character of Boris Kuznetsov, Volkov’s protegee freshly out of prison.

_This is now what I expected my first impression of the Russian mafia to be…_


	3. Disturbia

The ride had been interminable. The redhead, whose name was Daichi Sumeragi, had driven them through narrow streets and highways, until Bryan was unable to tell if they were still in Tokyo. They had stopped in front of a chic hotel. Then, they had taken the elevator all the way up to the top floor and arrived at a posh lounge bar with a panoramic view of the city.

From the moment Bryan had stepped in the car to the moment he had exited it, Daichi had monologued about every topic on earth except the Russian mafia. Bryan didn’t have any more information about the organization, but he now knew where to get the best Kobe beef in Tokyo (Ginza), how to order ramen in a ramen shop (push the buttons, hope for the best), and how to read the daunting Tokyo subway map. Bryan’s only words had been repeating his cover story; he was freshly out of prison, Volkov was shipping him to Japan to protect him. No, he didn’t speak Japanese. Yes, he could manage chopsticks.

Now, Bryan was sitting on one of the leather couches of the bar. The place was empty, so this was a front. He didn’t know who to expect. Perhaps Sergei Rybakov, one of Soichiro’s associates.

Suddenly, a voice made him jump.

“Boris Mikhailovich Kuznetsov!”

The voice was coming from a young man who had entered the place from God knew where.

Bryan recognized the man immediately. He had only seen him in blurry pictures before, but his face was hard to forget.

Kai Hiwatari. The grandson of Soichiro.

Kai slowly made his way to Bryan. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a half-buttoned loose purple silk shirt. He also carried a bottle of vodka in each hand.

Kai greeted him with a smile and a curtsy. “Welcome, to my humble residence.”

Bryan looked at him, mouth agape. “This bar?”

Kai emitted a small laugh.

“Fancy isn’t? You’re just in time, I was having dinner,” said Kai, shaking the two bottles like they were maracas.

There was no food in sight. Bryan hadn’t eaten anything since a pastry mid-afternoon. However, he couldn’t miss the opportunity to have a discussion with the grandson of Soichiro. He exhaled.

This was going to get messy.

Bryan forced himself to nod. “Sure.”

He sat down and Kai served him a glass. Up close, the infamous criminal was pretty handsome. A bit younger than him, but not so much. He wasn’t carrying any gun or weapon, so Bryan assumed his bodyguards weren’t far. The grandson of Soichiro was probably never really alone.

Kai emptied two glasses before starting their discussion. “Volkov told us so much about you.”

Bryan followed suit. He felt his character coming to life.

“Yeah. He said you have a job for me.”

Kai smiled and brought his fingers together. Bryan noticed something on his hands. Nail polish?

Silver nail polish.

Bryan then glanced at his own clothes. He was wearing hands-me-down, as an impoverished felon most likely would. Daichi’s words came to his mind.

_You don’t exactly blend in._

Was this, the fashion mafia?

“Well, a job… more like a role if you want,” Kai answered. “See… we’re in dire need of a masseuse.”

Bryan jumped in confusion. “What?”

Kai slid a hand through his hair and raised an eyebrow. He leaned in closer over the table, as if he wanted to lie down on it.

He was close enough that Bryan could get a grasp of his scent, a mixture of alcohol and expensive perfume.

“You see,” Kai continued in the same serious soft voice, “I have a very stiff neck and sometimes my back does this thing where it gets crampy all of a sudden?

What the hell was this? Even his character was offended. Bryan slowly clarified, “And Volkov shipped me all the way from jail so that I can… massage you?”

Kai’s smile stretched even more. “He didn’t tell you?”

A feminine voice cut their discussion. “Kai, dear, stop messing with our guest.”

Bryan jumped for the second time. How could they all arrive out of nowhere? He turned around, only to be met with a stunning Japanese woman carrying a large grocery bag. The bag smelled of food.

“I brought you dinner. Sorry, I’m a bit late.”

The girl unpacked three bento boxes and put one in front of Bryan and one in front of Kai. She kept the third one for herself.

Kai fell back on his chair and gestured towards her. “This is Tachibana Hiromi, my assistant.” His smile fell and Bryan got the feeling to witness a naughty child who just got reprimanded by his nanny.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Hiromi said in a perfect Russian and Bryan added “Russian with a Japanese accent” to things he found hot.

She smiled and initiated small talk, “Volkov said you were a bodyguard.”

Bryan slipped back into character. “Yeah, among other stuff, yeah. Sometimes I drove his car as well.”

“Oh, wonderful. You’ll be working under Yuriy. Kai doesn’t get out much, so we might send you for other jobs as well, from time to time.”

Yuriy. This was another name Bryan had heard. Yuriy Alekseivich Ivanov. Former hitman, now Soichiro’s right hand. A really fucking scary dude, according to records.

Finally. This was starting to take form. Bryan mentally thanked Volkov for his help.

“Ok, cool. So… where is Yuriy?”

“Not here. He’s abroad, with my grandfather,” said Kai bitterly.

Bryan noticed Kai had emptied three more glasses by the time he attacked his food.

Hiromi took care of most of the small talk during the dinner and Bryan didn’t learn anything meaningful. After he emptied his bento, he got up.

“Is Sumeragi going to drive me back to my hotel? I should get going. I can come back tomorrow.”

Kai seemed surprised.

“Leave? Why do you want to leave? You have somewhere to be?”

“Uh. Well no, I just… I assume I will be meeting other people before… working for you. Right?”

This was clearly the wrong thing to say. Hiromi and Kai looked at each other, bewildered.

Bryan mentally cursed himself.

Kai stood up too. He was shorter than Bryan, but his intensity gave him a natural authority.

“Do you think this is like… a job interview with an employment contract and benefits packages?”

Bryan was at loss for word. This wasn’t good. Kai was right, what the fuck was he thinking? A mistake like this could easily cost him his cover.

Suddenly, Kai’s face lit up. “You’re so clearly Volkov’s guy! He’s so stiff, that old fart. Isn’t he, Hiromi?”

“Yes, very much. But to answer your question,” she turned to Bryan, “we would prefer if you could start working tonight. We have spare clothes and all.”

Bryan redirected his attention to Kai. He crossed his arms on his chest and switched his expression back to neutral, as if this was business as usual for him. “Sure… boss. What do we do tonight?”

Kai’s gave a mischievous smile.

“Tonight? Tonight we party, of course.”


	4. Russian Roulette

_A few days later_

“So, Bryan. How are things going?”

“Frankly boss, I’m not sure my liver will survive.”

Bryan was not exaggerating. In less than a week, he had ingested more vodka than he had in his entire life combined. Kai Hiwatari was not just a party star, he was a fucking festival all by himself.

The night he had arrived at The Lounge (which was apparently the name of the bar the Russian mafia used as a front), Kai Hiwatari had improvised the wildest party Bryan had ever had the chance to be part of. It had escalated so quickly, Bryan barely had time to take mental notes for his investigation.

One minute a few yakuza were poking the ice cubes in their drinks, the minute later another ice cube was being used as a prop by two pink-haired strippers arrived from God knew where. The next minute, Hiwatari was on the counter, showering people in champagne. After… the evening was blurry.

Bryan had been so drunk, he hadn’t even protested when one of the strippers had made him snort cocaine from her stiletto. He vaguely remembered having a heated discussion with a yakuza on the relative sexiness of tattooed women. Said discussion had ended in a friendly bear hug.

The party had continued well into the morning. At one point, a barely-conscious Hiwatari had been carried to his room by Hiromi and most guests had taken this as a signal it was time to go.

The next nights had been similar.

Today, Bryan had managed to take a day off. He needed a nap. He hadn’t even lied on this point and Kai had jokingly allowed him to rest if he came back with better clothes.

And only now, after a well-deserved nap, a shower, and putting on a shirt that wasn’t covered in sequins was he able to join Rei in the hotel room they used as a headquarter and videocall Mr. Dickenson.

“I can guess how tired you must be, my boy,” said the old man with a smile, “Rei told us that most of the recordings are drowned in loud music and cannot be used as evidence.”

Bryan pitied Rei who had to listen to over twenty hours of chansons and Japanese club music.

“The recordings are indeed… blurry, at best. Only music and occasional yells, sir,” confirmed Rei.

Off-camera, the voice of Judy Tate cut, “Have you managed to get an idea of Kai’s role in the organization?”

Bryan scratched his head. “It’s hard to say. His grandfather is not there, so I am not certain if what I saw is his usual schedule.”

“Has he mentioned Soichiro at all?” Judy Tate insisted.

“He has, a few times. They seem close. Kai is visibly upset that Soichiro is absent. Yesterday, I heard him admitting to Hiromi that he missed “him”.”

The sound of Judy’s typing on her laptop was clear in the background. She continued, “Interesting. Any other details?”

Bryan took a few seconds to think. “Kai calls him “daddy”.”

“You’ve heard him on the phone with Soichiro?”

“Uh, not exactly. But he mentioned “daddy” would be back home in two days. He was smiling as he said this.”

Mr Dickenson nodded pensively. “So, Soichiro is clearly a father figure for the young Hiwatari.”

“I would assume, yes.”

Judy Tate suddenly appeared on the video. She stared straight at the camera and said, “That’s touching, but we have more urgent topics than Kai’s psychological profile. Volkov hinted that the Japan branch is currently taking care of a large shipment of cocaine. Any idea where it might be?”

Bryan’s lips stretched in a smirk. “With what I’ve seen, I would say all in his nose.”

Rei erupted in laughter. Dickenson gave a sensible chuckle. Only Judy didn’t seem amused, as her nostril flared in anger.

“Don’t be silly! Don’t let the Hiwatari tactics fool you! You’re in the middle of a well-oiled, well-organized machine! Be careful, you’re not the first spy they come across.”

Bryan gave an apologetic smile. “I understand, Dr. Tate.”

“This dude might be a crazy cokehead, but we don’t know how he is when Soichiro is there. You might have a surprise when you get back to The Lounge.”

“I understand.”

While Judy was taking a moment to calm herself down, Mr Dickenson switched topics.

“Now, this… Tachibana Hiromi… his assistant… what’s your impression of her?”

Bryan’s heartbeat increased. He forced his expression to remain neutral. Professional. “They seem close. She is both an assistant and a best friend.”

“Lover? Girlfriend?” Rei asked.

“I am not sure,” admitted Bryan after a few seconds. “It doesn’t seem like this type of relationship.”

“You don’t know that,” said Judy Tate’s voice again off-camera.

“I said I am not sure.”

Jeez this woman could be rude.

“Maybe your impression is wrong,” offered his boss, “so continue observing. You’re doing an excellent job so far.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Before switching off his camera, the old man suggested, “You should try to have some alone time with miss Tachibana. If she is indeed Kai’s… mistress, she will have useful information.”

Bryan tried to hide his joy.

“Excellent idea, sir. I will try.”


	5. Kiss It Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art created by the incredible TrashyArtz, originally posted on tumblr

Yuriy Ivanov’s aura was one of murder.

That’s the first impression that came to Bryan’s mind when he came back to The Lounge and found himself face to face with the legendary former hitman.

Soichiro’s right hand.

Yuriy Alekseivich Ivanov.

In person, he was scarier than in picture. Red hair and pale skin, reminiscent of fresh blood on crisp snow. Mad blue eyes on an overall stoic expression.

The right side of his face sported a facial scar that hadn’t fully healed. A pinkish maze of scarred flesh that reeked of torture.

Yuriy’s presence sharply reminded Bryan that he was in the den of criminals.

It didn’t help that Bryan’s current outfit consisted of Mickey ears, a Tokyo Disneyland shirt, and a gigantic Stitch plushie Kai had won at an arcade game.

Yes, today Kai had dragged his little entourage to fucking Disneyland.

The worst was that it had been fun. Bryan had almost forgotten that the man he had followed on rides and attractions was a mafia higher-up. Hiromi had of course been invited, but they had also been accompanied by Daichi, who had complained all day, another bodyguard named Sergei, and one of the strippers with pink hair. 

Bryan had found himself genuinely laughing a few times and almost forgetting his mission. The day had passed like a school trip.

Kai had been almost sober the entire time, which hadn’t changed his personality much, but had made him tolerable.

Bryan hadn’t managed to get any time with Hiromi. However, no matter what Judy Tate thought, he still wasn’t convinced Hiromi was Kai’s lover. They seemed close, but more akin to siblings. Maybe she was a cousin.

Now, Kai and Hiromi were both buying ice cream with Sergei, while he had volunteered to bring back the Disney bags to The Lounge and hopefully investigate alone.

Yuriy’s voice brought him back to earth.

“Boris Mikailovich”

Bryan slipped back into character gave a grunt. “That’s me”

Yuriy handed him a bandaged hand.

“Oh sorry,” he corrected, handing his left hand instead, “I forgot about this little scratch.”

Bryan shook his hand and kept his composure.

Yuriy’s voice was softer than Bryan had expected. His tone was one of someone who effortlessly commands respect.

“I’ve heard much about you,” Yuriy continued, “pleasure to meet you. You were with Volkov, yes?”

“That’s correct.”

“And three years inside…”

Bryan gave a shrug. “Could have been worse. They aimed for ten. I got lucky.”

“Yeah, for sure! Volkov took care of you.”

Yuriy’s gaze went to the elevator.

“You are alone?”

“Yeah, I, uh… bags duty.”

Bryan showed the two bright Disneyland bags he carried, full of things Kai had bought and immediately lost the need for. Bryan wondered if there was one thing this man didn’t do with intensity. He threw his money like the paper burned his fingers.

Yuriy didn’t seem interested by those at all. His voice flared with agitation and nervousness was visible on his features. “Who is with Kai?”

“Sergei.”

Yuriy’s face immediately relaxed. “Good. I need to leave, but don’t tell anyone Soichiro and I are back yet. We still have things to do.”

Yuriy gave him a wink and disappeared by another door, one of the few secret entries The Lounge had. That’s how Kai was able to startle him on the first day.

A place full of surprises, just like this stupid mission was.

* * *

_Later that night_

A full day at Disneyland was tiring, but there was nothing a few pills couldn’t fix for Kai Hiwatari. Bryan had found out the hard way. He had hoped maybe today he would be dismissed early, but no, after popping a few fun candies, Kai had decided the best way to end his day was by organizing a mahjong night with forty of his closest friends.

So The Lounge had been lined up with mahjong tables and a few other games for those who grew tired of playing with tiles.

Bryan had switched the Mickey ears for a proper tuxedo and was now standing about a meter away from Kai, nursing a gin tonic, making sure no one stabbed the grandson of Soichiro by accident or something.

Kai was wearing a black silk shirt with a red roses pattern and an atrocious amount of makeup. With such an outfit, Bryan wouldn’t even notice the blood if Kai got stabbed. Apparently, some assassins were gifted at killing with no pain and you only realized you were dying when blood started pooling out at your feet.

Hiromi was playing at another table and Bryan's gaze drifted towards her more often than needed. He could swear she had glanced in his direction once or twice, but perhaps he was simply a sad single dude who saw signs when there were none.

“You know, you don’t have to drink as much as they do,” said a feminine voice next to him.

Bryan turned around. It was Mariam, the tough-looking bodyguard of a yakuza named Ozuma. The same yakuza he had bear-hugged a few days ago.

Bryan chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “And I thought Volkov’s gang partied hard.”

She snorted. “If you’re not careful, you’ll destroy your liver. I don’t know what keeps Kai Hiwatari alive.”

“The exact cocktail of substances varies from day to day, from what I’ve seen.”

“It’s worst when Yuriy is not here to keep an eye on him,” said Mariam.

“You mean Yuriy is like another Hiromi?” Bryan asked.

Mariam gave a conspicuous smile and crossed her arms on her chest.

“Sometimes. Ask him yourself,” she suggested, pointing her chin in direction of the elevator.

Bryan followed her indication, and he recognized the scarlet head he had seen this morning.

Yuriy was back.

From his position, Bryan saw the atmosphere changing slightly.

People reacted to his presence with a mixture of fearful respect and reserved attention. There was nothing particularly menacing in his attitude, but Bryan knew better. Tokyo’s criminals could recognize a murderous fucker when they saw one and Yuriy Ivanov was apparently high on the list.

Kai had apparently seen his employee’s return too because his eyes widened. Then, he gave his attention back to the game, but it was obvious he was bothered too.

_Is Kai… afraid of Yuriy?_

Bryan frowned. This was an interesting theory. He needed to be extra attentive.

* * *

_Later that same evening_

The party slowly dwindled down after Yuriy’s arrival. It had been an extravagant soiree by Bryan’s standards, but perhaps this is what a quiet evening looked for the crazy Hiwatari grandson. Bryan wasn’t sure.

He couldn’t complain. He needed sleep. His eyes felt painfully heavy.

“Tired?”

Speaking of the devil, Kai popped out of nowhere in front of him and handed him a flute of champagne.

“This will help you sleep,” Kai assured, as if he had been a nurse giving chicken broth to a sick child.

Bryan stared at the flute. He then stared at Kai’s face. The black eyeshadow have Kai’s eyes a surreal nature. His black and red shirt was open just enough to guess the tattoos on his chest.

“I’ll bring one to Yuriy,” Kai simply continued, “you can leave.”

Kai took two flutes and made his way to a door at the back of the bar.

Before Bryan could protest or ask questions, he felt a hand on his arm.

Hiromi.

She reassured him. “It’s fine. He’s just wants to have a chat with Yuriy. Wanna go for a walk with me?”

Bryan stared at the door. Then at Hiromi. Then at the door.

He remembered Judy Tate ordering him to get some time alone with her. For once, Judy Tate’s suggestion was pretty good.

Bryan faked an annoyed shrug. “Yeah, sure.”

* * *


	6. Umbrella

He should have known that _going for a walk_ didn’t mean leaving the building. These people rarely left their protected little headquarter. Hiromi had dragged them through a secret set of stairs, and they had ended up on the roof.

The place had obviously been used for social gatherings at some point. It looked like an abandoned rooftop bar. Some chairs and tables were still there, as if waiting for guests in the dark.

Bryan looked around him. The view on the city below was astonishing.

“This place is nice. Why aren’t we using it?”

“A few years ago, someone tried to jump to their death. Some idiot called the police and it cost Soichiro a lot of money to make them leave. Since then, we don’t come here.”

Hiromi dragged a chair next to Bryan and plopped herself on it.

“My feet are killing me!” Hiromi said while removing her shoes, sparkly high heels that looked expensive.

Hiromi was always dressed head to toes in designer. Even her t-shirts were apparently from an exclusive Korean brand. She always ended up looking straight out of a photoshoot.

Bryan lit a cigarette. Tokyo had been awful on his attempts at quitting smoking. He offered one to Hiromi, but she declined.

“You sure we can leave Kai with Yuriy like this?” Bryan asked.

Hiromi didn’t seem worried. “Of course.”

She closed her eyes and leaned back on the chair.

Bryan knew that Boris Kuznetsov would have smoked his cigarette in silence, but FBI agent Bryan needed to get information. He had no idea where to start. He was still working on a subtle opening, when Hiromi spoke to him again.

“Actually, I don’t like these shoes.”

“Why did you buy them, then?”

“I didn’t. They were a gift from Kai. I’ll tell him to pick another model next time.”

She sighed and closed her eyes.

Bryan attempted a confused, “So… uh… is he your boss or your personal shopper?”

Hiromi emitted a soft laugh, clear as crystal.

“He isn’t my boss. I’ve been in this family since I was ten. I do not work _for_ Kai. I work _with_ him. He doesn’t pay me, I have a cut on whatever money the organization makes.”

Hiromi opened an eye and waited for Bryan’s reaction. When none came, she continued, “Kai just likes to spoil people he likes. Most of my clothes are gifts from him.”

Bryan nodded. This started to make more sense. She wasn’t Kai’s subordinate, at least not officially. She probably just did whatever was needed to make sure Kai's disastrous ass lived another day.

“What brought you here?” Bryan continued.

Hiromi dismissed his question. “You just can’t keep asking and give nothing in return. Your turn now, to be interrogated. What brought you to Volkov.”

Bryan and Volkov had worked together to create a plausible origin story. Bryan had mixed it with his own personal childhood. They had repeated it so often, it rang true to his own ears now.

“My mom died when I was thirteen and my dad kinda… stopped taking care of me. I spent a few years doing stupid shit and then one day, Volkov found me and took me under his wing. Been working for him ever since. He’s a good man.”

Bryan ended his speech with a smile, having called a mafia boss _a good man_ without flinching.

Hiromi teased, “And now your dear mentor ships you over to Japan. You must be heartbroken.”

Bryan lit another cigarette. His lungs would hate him, but this discussion had to continue. “I had to… give a few names in order to get three years and not ten. Volkov did what he could to make sure I did not end up in multiple Ziplock bags.”

Hiromi pinched her lips and nodded to herself. “I can’t believe we never met before.”

Bryan felt his pulse accelerating but kept his composure. He shrugged, “Maybe we have and we both forgot.”

“Oh, I would have remembered you,” Hiromi said with confidence.

Bryan’s lips formed a line. What did this mean? She remembered everyone she ever laid eyes on? He redirected the topic to her.

“You still haven’t answered my question. What brought you here as a child? Did Soichiro brought a future bride for his grandson or?”

Against all odds, Hiromi laughed again.

Bryan threw the stub of his cigarette in an old metal bin. “What? Volkov told me you were an _assistant_. From where I’m from, it’s usually a nice metaphor to mean more than paperwork and serving coffee. I’m confused.”

Hiromi eyed him cautiously. Her eyes glowed with amusement. After a moment, she explained, “As you might have noticed, I am not exactly Kai's cup of tea.”

Bryan got struck by the truth like a tree by lightning.

How fucking stupid was he.

The outrageous makeup. The shoes. The fact that despite Hiromi being smart and gorgeous, Kai was only interested in dressing her like a doll.

Bryan’s surprise must have been obvious, because Hiromi piped, “Wait, you really didn’t know?”

Bryan didn’t managed to be shocked more than five seconds. Of course now things made sense. “I cannot say I am too surprised... Does Soichiro know?”

Hiromi’s smile twisted. “Of course not. I mean… Kai is not really in the closet, but Soichiro is bathing in denial as much as his grandson is, in cocaine.”

Bryan chuckled.

Hiromi grabbed his arm lightly. “Let’s go back inside. It’s getting cold.”

They walked back to the rooftop door and found their way back to The Lounge. Only back there did Bryan notice that Hiromi was much shorter than usual.

“Hiromi… you forgot your shoes outside.”

She stared back at the door they had just exited and sighed lazily. “That’s fine. They can wait there. I have others.”


	7. Please Don't Stop The Music

_A few weeks later_

“Congratulations, Bryan. You did manage to get some time alone with miss Tachibana.”

Bryan puffed in frustration. “Yeah, like once.”

Bryan was exaggerating. Hiromi and him had talked a few times, but he hadn’t learned much about the organization since their rooftop conversation.

Bryan was pacing back and forth in the room. He really needed a cigarette, and this call with the FBI office was taking forever. As usual, he had met Rei in his hotel room and they had videocalled their boss together.

“Anything else on Kai?” Mr. Dickenson asked.

“Not really, sir. He’s been awfully quiet since Soichiro’s return.”

Soichiro’s presence had taken a toll on Kai. Bryan had quickly realized his assumption that Soichiro and Kai were close had been wrong. His Psychology 101 teacher would have cried in despair.

A few weeks ago, they had celebrated Soichiro’s return with a casino night, as it was apparently custom to do so. The old man was an avid gambler. It had only taken Hiromi a handful of phone calls to organize a proper party in one of Tokyo’s most reputed hotel. The fact that gambling was illegal in Japan was apparently a small detail no one bothered with.

Bryan had finally been able to investigate something else than Kai’s drug habits. He had worn new silver earrings for the occasion, Judy Tate’s most recent gadget. The right one contained a microphone, smaller and more practical than the one he often hid in his collar.

He had taken note of the people attending the event. A few more politicians than he would have suspected. Some people he had recognized from Kai’s extravagant parties.

However, one detail had stood out; Kai had behaved.

He had shown up in a sober tuxedo, a tame outfit, miles away from what he usually sported. He had nursed a single glass of wine all evening and politely conversed with people pressing around him to shake his hand or make small talk.

Bryan had spent most of the evening dumbfounded by this newer Kai. At one point, he had even wondered if this was a body double.

Where was the extravagant fiasco Bryan was now used to? Was this caused by Soichiro’s presence?

The following day had confirmed his theory. Kai and Soichiro weren’t particularly close. They spoke mostly in Japanese in his presence, but their facial expressions gave no warmth.

Kai’s sweet words had been a joke all along, a big inside joke Bryan had missed.

Ever since Soichiro’s return, Kai had spent his days mostly with Yuriy as a personal guard. Bryan had been assigned to The Lounge or running errands with Hiromi, which were the high points of his days.

Turns out Hiromi wasn’t just beautiful, she was also smart, interesting, and really fun to be around. She laughed at Bryan’s terrible Japanese and made him try snacks his very Western palate had never experienced.

They rarely talked about the organization and Bryan was at loss at how to get her to open up. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman he could dupe with sweet words either.

As usual, Judy Tate typed impatiently off-camera. “How about Yuriy?”

Bryan gave a shrug. “You’ve heard our conversations. Nice bloke. He follows Kai around like a mom follows a toddler. They’re often out of The Lounge.”

“I thought he was Soichiro’s right hand,” Mr. Dickenson asked.

“He is. He started off as Kai’s bodyguard and then hitman and he’s slowly climbing the ranks. However, it seems everyone is paranoid when it comes to Kai’s safety. I’ve think… I have a hunch that something must have happened to him at a moment or another.”

“You must get closer to Yuriy,” Judy Tate ordered.

“What an excellent idea, Dr. Tate,” Rei piped, barely hiding his sarcasm.

Before Judy could protest, Bryan changed the subject.

“Dr. Tate, I have a question. The earring microphone, what is the range exactly?”

“About five meters. Please be careful to not switch them off by accident, unless you’re really alone. Every word can be a clue.”

Bryan pressed on his earring, feeling the device switch on, and back off again.

“Duly noted.”

* * *

Much later, after the interminable videocall, Rei and Bryan found themselves on the balcony of the hotel room.

“Mr. Dickenson was awfully quiet today,” said Bryan, finally smoking the cigarette he had been craving for hours.

“He fears for you.”

“He shouldn’t," Bryan answered, "I am not doing anything dangerous for now.”

“You know, it was Judy Tate who insisted to have you on this," Rei explained, "Apparently you’re the only agent with both the looks and the knowledge needed to infiltrate the mafia.”

Bryan laughed. “So I look like a criminal, noted.”

"My point is... Mr. Dickenson didn't want you to infiltrate this organization. He said it was too dangerous. He's afraid something terrible will happen to you."

"The worst thing that could happen to me would be an accidental overdose." said Bryan with a shrug.

"After hours of listening to your partys, this almost seems preferable," Rei joked.

Bryan knew a team of people listened to the recording for clues and information, but Rei was the person in charge and he insisted of doing most of the work. Rei wasn't a man made for the field, he thrived in a back office environment, where his intellect and his knowledge of multiple languages were put to use.

Suddenly, Bryan phone's rang. Yuriy was calling him.

Weird. Yuriy never called.

"Hello" he articulated slowly in Russian, signaling to Rei to pay attention.

"Boris! Yuriy here. Listen, are you free now?"

"I'm with a girl," Bryan lied, hoping Yuriy wouldn't ask exactly where he was. Rei kicked him gently in the shin, but kept listening.

Yuriy's voice was weirdly agitated. "Uh, can you make yourself free?"

"Yeah, I can do that. Is there a problem?"

"Cool. Meet me at... nevermind, I'll text you the address. I'll need your help moving a body."


	8. Man Down

Bryan and Yuriy took the train to a small city Bryan had never heard of. Then, they rented a car and drove to another town with a name full of consonants and just as foreign sounding.

It was past dusk when they finally arrived at their destination. Yuriy stopped the car in an isolated parking lot, right in the middle of a forest. Then, he ordered Bryan out of the car.

“There is a famous shrine nearby,” Yuriy said, tossing an empty gym bag at Bryan.

Bryan slung the bag over his shoulder, trying not to think about what it would contain later.

“But it’s not what we’re looking for,” continued Yuriy with a weird smile.

Bryan forced himself to chuckle. Yuriy had provided all the background needed during the car ride.

Daichi had apparently been tasked with sending one of Soichiro's enemies say hi to his ancestors and getting rid of the evidences afterwards. Yuriy had given Daichi specific instructions, including how to dismember the corpse for easy carrying and where to drop the remains. However, Daichi had apparently gotten lost and panicked, so he had buried the guy in the first deserted area he had stumbled upon.

Said area ended up being about a hundred meters from a famous shrine in the countryside.

They grabbed their guns and flashlights, hoping the weapons would be unnecessary. No one should bother them at this late hour. Yuriy indicated a hiking trail and they entered the forest.

After a while, they deviated from the trail and got deeper into the forest, until they were fully surrounded by trees.

“Daichi said he had buried all the body parts together.”

“At least we won’t have to look around for a missing foot,” attempted Bryan in a clumsy joke.

The redhead waived a dismissive hand. “Yeah, none of this mess was supposed to happen in the first place. You should be with your girl and I should be…”

Yuriy let the rest of his sentence trail off, unfinished.

Bryan had no idea what Yuriy’s hobbies were. He had seen him reading during the train ride, so reading was one. But he didn’t know if Yuriy had a private life at all. He always showed up to The Lounge in nothing less but business casual, no matter the hour. He never spoke of friends, a girlfriend, or anything else outside the organization.

After a while, Yuriy stopped and signaled that this was approximately the area where the body had been buried. Then, they both methodically scanned the ground with their flashlights, looking for clues in the soil and leaves.

After ten minutes, Bryan didn’t feel like making jokes anymore. The sky had turned pitch black, and his flashlight barely gave enough light to see where he was going.

He was still mentally cursing Daichi’s stupidity, when he felt more than he heard a crunch under his shoe.

A quick glance confirmed his suspicions. He had just stepped on a half-buried plastic bag.

“Uh, boss? I think I found our Sleeping Beauty.”

Yuriy exhaled and took out two small shovels from his own gym bag. He tossed one to Bryan and they both started digging.

“What a mess,” Yuriy complained in a whisper, “I can’t believe no one realized that some noisy punk was hiding a corpse near a temple. He’s going to Japanese hell for this.”

Bryan ignored the comments and started digging as well. It wasn’t the first time he saw a crime scene, but it was the first time he was creating one. He mentally pictured the Japanese police going around the perimeter, looking for clues.

He finally dug out the first plastic bag and confirmed that a severed human head was indeed inside. The smell of rotting flesh crawled up his nose and made his eyes water. He quickly shoved the head into his gym bag, hiding his disgust.

They worked quickly, and efficiently. They shoved the body parts Daichi had buried into clean plastic bags and put them into their gym satchels, Tetris-style. Bryan kept his face neutral, as if this was just another Tuesday.

For Yuriy, obviously, it was.

Every minute or so, Yuriy looked around, to make sure no one was coming close. They heard faint voices in the distance, but nothing alarming.

Finally, after Bryan managed to find the last piece (a severed hand), they made their way back to the car.

Bryan’s bag weighted a horrible heaviness. He tried not to think about the head. Normally, he coped with crime scenes by swearing to himself he would find the culprits. Now, he was the criminal. Maybe he too would end up in Japanese hell.

They shoved the bags in the trunk and drove back to the train station in silence.

After a moment, Bryan said, "Sucks when people can't do the job properly."

He needed to talk. Get back into character. Justify why there was now a corpse in the back of a car. Justify this whole mission.

Yuriy nodded placidly. "Yeah. He’ll be on chauffeur duties only for a while.”

Before Bryan would think of a cruel-but-appropriate joke, Yuriy switched topic. “So… you were with a girl?”

Bryan shrugged. “Yeah.”

“You need to get back to your place?”

Bryan pictured Rei in his hotel room, probably having a dumplings dinner while listening to this exact conversation.

“Uh, no, that’s fine. We can go back to The Lounge. I told her I was needed at work. She thinks I’m a barman.”

Anyway, most of Bryan’s stuff that were non-FBI related were at The Lounge, where he slept most of the time. The top level of the building was a bar, but the rest of the building was mostly occupied by a proper five-star hotel.

Yuriy continued his questions. “She’s Japanese?”

This word made Hiromi’s face pop into Bryan’s mind. Then, he immediately thought of Judy Tate.

“No. American. Blonde, blue eyes, the whole deal.”

Yuriy nodded again.

Bryan wondered if he should ask Yuriy about his personal life too. Yuriy was clearly trying to make small talk, maybe to distract them from this shitty evening.

Bryan plunged. “How about you? You have a girlfriend?”

Yuriy gave him an amused glance. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend. I don’t really hang out with people outside the organization, it’s too risky.”

“Fair enough.”

Yuriy brought his eyes back to the road and his expression regained his composure. “We cannot trust many people. Anyone could be an enemy.”

Bryan nodded, trying not to imagine what would happen if Yuriy found out his true identity.

Maybe he too would end up in gym bags.

* * *

_A few days later_

“HE MEANT HE IS WITH SOMEONE FROM INSIDE THE MAFIA!”

Judy Tate’s yell made Bryan jump. They were going over what had happened a few days ago.

“You should have asked him more questions," she continued, "He gave you an opening and you didn’t take it.”

“Doctor Tate," interrupted Mr. Dickenson, "what is done is done. Bryan can explore Yuriy's personal life later. Now, Bryan, can you tell us about what happened after this conversation?”

Bryan sank back into his chair. He was back at Rei's hotel room sooner than expected. Now that he had the American girlfriend excuse, he had used it to make sure he could get away from The Lounge on his next day off.

Bryan gestured vaguely towards his computer screen. “You’ve read Rei’s summary. We parked the car at a designated area, so Mariam could take care of the corpse, as it was supposed to happen in the first place.

“Why Mariam?”

“Ozuma and his guys own a bunch of construction companies," Bryan explained. "They pour concrete for new buildings every day, no one will notice if a few plastic bags get tossed in it… "

Bryan took a sip of water and continued his summary.

"Then, we went back to the Lounge. Kai was drunk, and pissed, because we took forever, so Yuriy told me to leave and that he would take care of him.”

Bryan still remembered a very distressed Kai, wearing only a golden robe, yelling incoherently at them. Yuriy hadn’t been phased at all. Apparently, just another Tuesday, again.

“And you went back to your room,” Mr. Dickenson continued.

Bryan gave a sharp nod. “Correct. That’s where the audio stops. I switched off the microphone and went straight to sleep.”

Bryan hoped his face gave nothing.

This was a lie. His first lie since the beginning of this assignment. He hadn’t been back to his room, not immediately at least. He had switched his microphone off and invited Hiromi to share a few glasses with him on the rooftop.

No Rei, no FBI infiltration, no recording. Just the two of them.

This hadn't been an impulse. Ever since Judy Tate had confirmed the microphone could be switched off, he had contemplated the idea. Until now, his sense of duty had forbidden him to keep secrets from the FBI. His attraction to Hiromi would have to be ignored.

However, yesterday’s events had softened his inner doubts. Bryan could still vividly feel the human head in his hands. It had taken everything not to vomit. He had recovered a corpse and contributed to a murder. Then, he had gotten yelled at by a crazy drunk boss.

He did deserve a nice moment, for fucks sake.

Just a nice time with a beautiful woman.

He could be Boris Kuznetsov again tomorrow morning.

Anyway, if Hiromi gave him a major revelation, he would parrot it back to Mr. Dickenson. She hadn’t. They had just spent a nice moment together that had almost felt like a date.

Bryan mentally promised himself this would be the first and only time he would indulge like this.

Mr. Dickenson's voice brought him back to reality. “Thank you, Bryan. You’re doing an excellent job. This investigation is really starting to look like something. If you continue like this, we should be able to make a few important arrests before the end of the year.”

Bryan tried not to picture Hiromi handcuffed in a police car. He forced himself to smile.

“Thank you, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The golden robe is inspired by one of Freckle's outfit in The Gay And Wondrous Life of Caleb Gallo


	9. Breakin' Dishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is graphic depiction of violence in this chapter. It's nowhere near what we see on Netflix these days, but I'd rather be on the safe side.
> 
> Hiruta is a canon character, he was part of the Blade Shark team in S1.

If Bryan had thought Hiromi would take their little tete-a-tete as a slip of character and leave it as it is, he had been sadly mistaken.

She had been flirting with him constantly in the past week, and he was too much of an idiot to not flirt back. How could he not? Hiromi Tachibana was magnetic. She had lips to sin for and eyes full of promises. He felt like a high schooler crushing on the hot girl, except this time the hot girl was clearly interested too.

The only thing really stopping him was this stupid mission. He couldn’t bear the thought of Rei hearing them, so he made sure to switch off his microphone whenever Hiromi was close. He didn’t dare to think about what would happen if he made a move. If he gave up and kissed her, or let the alcohol melt his resolve and invited her back to his room after one of Kai’s parties. He dared not to ponder on it too much. He didn’t want to picture himself explaining to Judy Tate why sleeping with Kai Hiwatari’s assistant/adopted sister/mafia bff was relevant for the FBI’s investigation.

Maybe he would have to pretend that his American girl was serious and that he couldn’t possibly cheat on her.

Bryan was still weighing his options when he heard soft knocks at his door. Then, a voice he knew too well called his name.

He sighed. Of course. Of all moments.

Her.

He switched his microphone on, to give himself some sort of reminder that Hiromi Tachibana was off-limits.

However, when Bryan opened the door, he saw that Hiromi was clearly not in a flirtatious mode.

“Kai wants to speak to you,” she simply said with a hard gaze.

Then, she added, her voice shaking slightly, “Be careful.”

Bryan frowned. Kai had been busy these days and Bryan had barely seen him, aside from a few meetings entirely in Japanese where Bryan’s role had been standing in a corner and giving murderous looks. Kai had spent those meetings giving instructions to subordinates, who clearly hated being given orders by a man wearing mascara, but had very little to say in the matter.

However, Bryan saw no reason why Kai would be angry at him, or what could cause this warning.

Aside from the fact that he was an American spy, of course.

Small detail.

Bryan made his way to the main bar, still puzzled over Kai.

He wondered if there was one thing this man didn’t do with intensity. He partied hard. When he wanted to have fun, he went all-in. He drank a lot, spent a lot, and was constantly jumping from one idea to the next. Even his exhaustion was intense. Once every few weeks, Kai crashed and spent days in his bedroom, with only occasional visits from Hiromi or Yuriy.

When he entered the main area, he saw Kai, sitting alone at a table. His pupils were dilated, but he didn’t seem as excited as usual.

“Boris. Dear.”

Bryan gave a nod. “Boss.”

Kai was dressed in all black, with strategically ripped jeans and a shirt open just enough to show his chest tattoos.

Kai brought his hands together and placed them under his chin, as if praying. “We’re going to visit a friend that I need to have a chat with.”

_Translation: “I’m going to yell at a bitch, and you need to stand straight and look scary.”_

Bryan grinned. “Sounds fun, boss.”

Bryan had done this before, however, it was the first time Kai himself moved his precious ass to have the discussion in person. The evening was promising. Bryan wondered who the unlucky fucker was and what he had done to deserve Kai’s wrath.

* * *

_Later that evening._

They parked in front of a chic apartment complex in Shibuya. Daichi had driven, and Bryan had spent thirty minutes listening to a monologue on why mayo was the superior condiment.

When they finally arrived, Bryan bolted out of the car. He almost wished he would be allowed to punch someone.

Kai hadn’t dragged Bryan only, he had also brought a second bodyguard, Hiruta, an ugly dude covered in tattoos with long hair kept in place by a bandana.

The passed in front of the front desk as if they were residents. Security ignored them purposefully and they made their way to the elevator.

It was always surprisingly easy to enter people’s places. Even known criminals opened their doors to all sorts of folks.

The man Kai came to “talk” with was no exception.

The little group erupted in the apartment and in about three seconds, the poor fucker had been sat down on a kitchen chair, Bryan’s gun on his head while Hiruta duck-taped him into place.

He was a man in his fifties, slightly balding, still wearing his office clothes. He had visibly just gotten home.

“Honda-san,” started Kai in a voice soft with violence.

Said Honda-san looked like he was about to cry. Kai smiled.

Bryan gulped.

Kai was just getting started.

The rest of the conversation, despite being entirely in Japanese, was surprisingly easy to follow. Bryan had seen those dozens of times before, the tone of voice and body language were the same across cultures; this was a bad guy having been found guilty and trying to save his ass. Except this time, Kai was the police, and he wasn’t bound by the Constitution.

The terrified man alternated between apologies, and panicky speedy Japanese.

Kai visibly knew how to play the game. He switched back and forth between an alien calm and cocaine-infused fury.

At one moment, Kai slowly opened up his shirt to reveal his chest.

Bryan's eyes widened.

Next to Kai’s skull tattoo, Bryan could see a dozen of small discolored marks, from the collarbone to the heart.

Burns.

Multiple small burns.

Bryan’s heart felt heavy in his chest.

_Torture._

Suddenly, everything clicked.

Why everyone was paranoid about Kai’s safety. Why Kai was never allowed to be alone.

At one point in a not-so-distant past, Kai got kidnapped, tortured, and by some miracle made it out alive.

Bryan supposed Yuriy’s facial scar was linked to this same event.

The sight made Honda-san panic. He started bowing his head uncontrollably, in what looked like a desperate attempt at gaining Kai’s mercy.

Kai didn’t flinch.

The Hiwatari grandson wasn’t here for apologies.

More speedy Japanese. The man was sweating profusely, but still not giving what Kai wanted.

Kai got annoyed. “Boris. Make him talk. I don’t have all evening.”

Bryan’s heart sank in his chest.

The air grew cold around him.

_Make him talk._

Bryan knew what this meant.

By joining this mission, he knew he might have to hurt people. But after months of doing nothing interesting, his inner resolve had melted, drowned into a mixture of alcohol, sequins, and Hiromi’s perfume.

Bryan wasn’t equipped to torture anyone. Was he supposed to bring tools? Improvise? His gaze went to the kitchen, where surely, the man had knives.

Kai must have followed his train of thoughts because he added, “No blood, please. Keep him clean. And alive.”

Bryan gulped. He had about five seconds before his entire cover was blown.

He couldn’t fail now.

Bryan let his character take the lead.

Bryan watched Boris Kuznetsov take Honda-san’s little finger in his hand.

He mentally apologized to Rei, hoping he wasn’t eating at the moment.

Then, Boris the bodyguard twisted the finger in an unnatural shape until he felt the bone snap.

The man yelled, but Hiruta muffled his screams with a dish cloth.

Bryan’s insides formed a knot. It hadn't been harder than breaking the bones found in chicken wings, and he wasn't sure if this realization was funny or horrifying.

When Honda-san stopped yelling, Kai continued his questions.

More speedy Japanese. More incoherent yelling. Kai gave a vague hand gesture.

_Again._

Bryan took Honda-san’s ring finger. He kept his wrist in place with one hand and used the other to break a second finger.

This time, their hostage cried, tears pouring down his face.

Bryan’s gaze went to Kai. The young Hiwatari seemed more annoyed than anything, and for the first time since the beginning of this mission, Bryan realized how deeply cold this man was.

He had never been scared of Kai before.

Now he wondered if he should have been.

Honda-san’s fingers were slowly swelling. Bryan couldn’t help but watch, fascinated, as the flesh turned red, then purple.

“Go for the thumb next,” Hiruta suggested with an Olympian calm, “it drives them insane every time.”

Bryan nodded.

Their little exchange in Russian was apparently all it took to make Honda-san break.

With a sniffle, he started listing whatever information Kai needed to hear. Kai took notes on his phone and smiled.

Then, it was over.

Kai buttoned his shirt back, and Hiruta removed the duct tape. Honda-san collapsed on his chair. For a brief second, his eyes met Bryan’s.

Bryan fought the urge to throw up.

He shushed the need to help Honda-san back to his feet, to tell him he was one of the good ones, but he was keenly aware he couldn’t.

Instead, Bryan gave him an empty look and followed Kai to the entrance door.

* * *

As it turns out, Bryan’s need to vomit had been legit. The minute he was back to The Lounge, he excused himself to his room and threw up everything he had eaten in the last 24 hours.

He had blissfully remembered to turn off his microphone, Rei and his team wouldn't have to hear the aftermath.

Bryan would never be able to eat chicken ever again.

He took a shower, trying to get rid of the smell of… he didn’t know what of. He felt filthy.

Fuck this mission.

Fuck this place.

Bryan had not been an angel in his youth, but he had never hurt someone like he had today. He had punched a few faces, but he had never tortured someone for the sole purpose of gaining information, whatever that information was.

He could still vividly picture the man's eyes looking at him, begging.

Imploring.

Bryan exited the shower not feeling any cleaner.

He put a clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt on and was about to go to sleep, when he heard faint knocks at the door, again.

Praying it wasn't Kai dragging him to yet another party, he opened the door.

It was Hiromi.

Bryan exhaled a sigh he didn't realize he had been holding.

"You weren't answering my texts," she said in a trembling voice.

Bryan stared at her.

She knew.

He knew she knew what had just happened. Maybe Kai told her, or maybe she guessed. It didn't matter.

And in spite of everything, she was worried for him.

She attempted a faint smile.

Bryan's resolve shattered.

_Fuck this._

_Fuck this place._

_Fuck this entire mission._

He closed the space that separated them and crashed his lips on hers.


End file.
